


Back from Black

by Melira



Series: Mentalist Snapshots [1]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: AU, Gen, Jane coming back to CBI after Red John killed his family, Lisbon's POV, One Shot, canon-divergent, on the premises of Jane working with CBI before his family got killed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 14:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melira/pseuds/Melira
Summary: Teresa Lisbon is more than surprised to see Patrick Jane come back to work with the CBI after Red John got his family. One-shot. Involuntarily AU.





	Back from Black

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote this, I had barely seen the first season, so I didn't know what was canon yet and this little piece turned out to be AU. But as this is the first of a series of one-shots I scribbled down while watching the show, I thought I might as well publish it along with the others. Have fun reading!

There he was. Patrick Jane, in the flesh. Of course they had been told he would come back, rejoin the team, but actually seeing it happen... Quite another story.

It’d been months since anyone had seen him. The once so media-prone, attention-seeking man had completely vanished after that night. And who could blame him? To lose one’s family like this was more than most could stand in itself, but feeling responsible for it must really push a man over the edge.

So they had been surprised, downright shocked, when the memo from upstairs had come. Patrick Jane was to join the California Bureau of Investigation once again. And as a full-time consultant at that. Before, he had shown up every once in a while, had inspected the crime scenes, when the man known as Red John had once again taken a victim, and he had tried to “get a mental grip” on him. Teresa Lisbon had always had a hard time believing all this stuff about communicating with another world and connections to serial killers, but Jane had seemed to get results. He had provided them with a plausible sounding profile and had more than once known things about the team, personal stuff he couldn’t possibly have heard somewhere. After a while, Lisbon had just accepted the slightly detached, sometimes childish man and his weird methods. What did she care if he really was psychic as long as he could help them?

And then that night had come. The unthinkable had happened. Jane had been invited to a talk show, nothing unusual, he lived off getting attention after all, and within hours his whole life had shattered. Lisbon had later watched the TV footage as part of the investigation and she could only try to imagine what Jane must have felt like. Still had to. Knowing his own arrogant words had caused his wife and child to get so brutally murdered by the very man he was trying to catch? She had been genuinely worried for him, she couldn’t think of how he was supposed to get through this. Over it wasn’t even an option. As carefree, almost careless, as he had always seemed to be, she knew he was deeply caring, especially for his family. The expression on his face and the tone of his voice when he had spoken of them had made it clear as day with every word.

After the call had come in, the one informing them that there had been another victim, and the address had been forwarded, she had at first believed it to be a mistake. They all had. Rigsby had actually asked to make sure the intel was correct and she had seen all colour drain from his face when the confirmation came.

At the crime scene, she had only shortly talked to Jane. When she had arrived, he had still been standing in the doorway to the bedroom, that horrible smiley in his direct line of sight. He had kept staring at it, almost hypnotized, and nobody had seemed to be able to get him away from there. She had taken him by the arm and had led him back to the living room downstairs. In the relative silence there she had expressed her condolences and had asked the obligatory questions about what had happened. He had answered them mechanically but otherwise had only physically been present. Even to her, who barely knew him, it had been painful to see the once so lively man reduced to a bare shell. The sight of his hollow eyes that night had haunted her for weeks.

After that she hadn’t seen or heard from Jane, neither of them had. They had completed the investigation – as far as that was possible when you were trying to catch a serial killer who managed to elude the best investigators for years now. They had barely mentioned what had happened among themselves. The personal background that particular crime had shown, the pure cruelty behind it was even more than they were used to.

And then, a week or two ago, they had been informed that Patrick Jane was to permanently join their team as a full-time consultant to the CBI. That he would be working with them on all their cases, but would get neither badge nor weapon. Lisbon had been able to tell she definitely wasn’t the only one more than just surprised. All of them were. But they hadn’t questioned it. Jane had proven to be useful before and it was only understandable that he wanted to help catch his family’s killer.

What she was worrying about though was how he should possibly be able to do an objective job. She had experienced what it felt like to work a case similar to one you had fallen victim to once and she shuddered at the thought of being confronted with it day after day. If Jane was to manage that, he either had to be the strongest man she had ever met or a maniac. She guessed, it was something in between. But since it wasn’t her decision to make, she did the only thing she was able to do. She promised herself to look out for Patrick Jane.

And here he finally was, standing in the doorframe, smiling in that trademark way of his. He looked exactly the same and completely different at once. He was still wearing a suit but it wasn’t as flashy as it used to be. His hair was less styled, more unruly and his grin didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes. He looked more boyish than ever and simultaneously more sincere than she had ever seen him before. He had lost that slightly mental air that had tended to annoy her. He looked like something had violently pulled him down to earth. Which was exactly what had happened.

He looked around, apparently taking in his old new workspace. He flashed her a smile and walked over to the leather couch on the wall opposite the door. He sat down on it like he’d never been away and she finally knew how to act around him. She had wondered how to behave towards him, but his demeanour made it clear. He didn’t want anyone to treat him with kid’s gloves. So she wouldn’t.

She walked up to him. “So, we’ve got our favourite psychic back”, she stated. He looked up at her. “I’m not a psychic. There is no such thing as psychics, it’s all science”, he said. And in that moment Teresa Lisbon realised just how much he had truly changed.

**Author's Note:**

> If you find mistakes in language or style, please tell me about them. As I'm not a native-speaker, I'm always happy to learn.


End file.
